


Freeflying

by JamtheDingus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragon Shiro, Hunk is stressed, Kidnapping, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: He gets two steps towards the door when the rumbling starts again. It’s low— it’sloud— and it absolutely rattles him to the core. He feels his heart stop for a moment, especially when there’s a heavy sound behind his back that nearly sends him sprawling to the ground for the umpteenth time that day.He really doesn’t want to turn around. He reallyreallydoesn’t, but he does anyway.And there, staring him straight in the eye, is adragon.





	Freeflying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [to-a-merrier-world (wayward_wolves)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_wolves/gifts).



> SURPRISE TEDDY!!!!!!! it was so hard not giving away the gift before it was time but i hope you enjoy it! <3 merry christmas!!! have some shunk

The mountain rumbled, trembling as tumbling rocks spilled down its face, coating the forest below it in thin layer of brown dust. The trees swayed with the force of the wind that followed it, and Hunk kind of felt faint as it wrapped around him.

The rope that was tied tight to his wrists was starting to burn, and he just knew it would leave some sort of mark. If he’d ever be able to get the damn thing off, that is. No matter how hard he tried, though, he just didn’t have enough reach to pull the elaborate tie apart— especially not when his captors cruelly yanked him along, throwing hateful glances his way as if he _wanted_ to be there, slowing them down.

He’d wandered into their town looking for work. _Desperately_ looking for work. He hadn’t had a job since he’d left a village over three months ago, and there was only so much he could scrounge up and sell for a not-even hot meal every night. There were a few odd jobs here and there he took part of, sure, but it was hard amassing a fortune when he was always on the move.

Yet, if someone had told him that _this_ town was going to capture him like some sort of animal and truss him up to take him to a possessed mountain for who knows _what_ — he would have been satisfied living off of cold grits and over-baked bread for the rest of his life, probably.

Instead, here he was. Tied up, gagged, and being led to his doom. They’d taken most of his belongings— his hammer, ingots, even his _spice bag_ — and left him only with the clothes on his back. Worn shoes, a leather duster that was older than Hunk was himself, and the yellow bandana he used to tie his hair back. They _almost_ took that, too, but he bit one of them on the hand when they got too close. Hence, the gag.

Well— if he was about to be sacrificed in order to appease an angry mountain, he was _glad_ they’d be without a hand for a few days.

That thought left a sour taste across his tongue— or was that the blood he hadn’t been able to spit out?— and he renewed his struggling, soundly ignoring how huffy his kidnappers regarded him. Hunk tugged his hands above his head, reaching as high as he could. The villager holding onto the rope was yanked off balance, causing them to stumble a few feet backwards. Hunk jerked on it again, to steal the rope from their hold, turning on his heel to make a run for it.

It is highly unfortunate for him that the ground consisted of mostly moss and wet clovers. He couldn’t get enough traction to stop himself from spinning too far, and he soon finds himself slipping, falling hard on his front. He hears a dull thumb behind him— the telltale sign that someone else had tripped in the fuss, too, and Hunk felt vindictively satisfied.

Little victories.

Though he’d honestly enjoy a big one at this point, more. He tried to get his tied hands underneath him, to shove himself up, or to crawl away— he didn’t care. He just wanted to get _out_ of there. A foot stomps down on the rope before he can try, though, and someone is soon lifting him up by his arm, even when he tries to weigh them down by flopping uselessly.

They yell something at him, but language was a barrier they’d encountered hours ago. Instead, they offered him a vague threat by growling in his face and waving an axe made of boar bone at him. They didn’t even have to gesture with the gun strapped to their backs to make the threat more lethal— the glint of sunlight off of the metal barrel was terrifying enough.

He’s shoved along, forced with a well aimed kick at his heels.

Hunk was very much so panicking, and now he smelled like wet grass. Perfect. A familiar sting of tears prickled at the corner of his eyes, and Hunk muffled his subsequent wet sniffle. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

By the time they make it to the base of the mountain, Hunk is shaking like a leaf. He feels lightheaded from how hard he was trying not to sniffle, and the clover-moss mixture on his front is starting to clump up and drip off of him in dirt balls. He picks at a ball of grass near his breast that would stain anything else other than the leather of his older than dirt jacket.

The unnatural rumbling stops all of a sudden. It had been a constant noise in the background, and its absence results in a dull, far off ringing in the back of Hunk’s ears that has him shaking his head, as if something had gotten caught inside of his skull and was buzzing away.

His kidnappers huddle in a circle in front of him to whisper to one another. They gesture at him more than once, and Hunk tries to tug out of the ropes again. It hurts more than its worth, however, when they tug back harder— even stepping on the length of it for good measure.

Their little team meeting seems to end on a positive note because they turn to him with a pep in their step, bunching up around his back to shove him along. They lead him a short ways down the path, to an etched out hole that looks tiny and crude compared to the natural wonder of the mountain.

They shoulder him into the doorway and, when he’s tripping over his own feet, they yank back on the rope to make him lose his balance again. He falls, face first, into the unforgiving dirt. 

They work quick as he’s dazed, throwing the rope on the ground as they produce some sort of metal instrument, clanging loud on it with a tuning fork. The resulting cacophony beats on his eardrums, and he can’t even cover them to block out the noise. He feels something being dusted over him and— for a horrifying moment— he thinks he’s being seasoned. He feels like a strung up chicken about to be eaten for a holiday dinner, until he realizes it's just dirt raining down on them from the vibrating noise.

They stop the ‘music’ as soon as they start, throwing the instruments down beside him. He flinches at the loud noise, positively dizzy from the onslaught. By the time he refocuses behind him, his kidnappers have all but vanished— returning back to the hell village they’d captured him in.

Hunk slots his knees beneath himself and sits up, shaking dirt from his hair as he tries to pick the cloth gag from between his teeth. The entire cave is dark, as if the sun was actively trying not to touch the place, and he has to squint to get a vague idea of what he was looking at.

The entire thing looked… empty. Empty and manmade. The walls were smooth— as if someone had spent _years_ sanding away the rough edges of nature— and the ground, when he wasn’t being slammed against it, was relatively soft against his skin.

After a few minutes of staring into the dark and _waiting_ , Hunk is very certain that he’d just gotten pranked; tugged along by a rope for an hour and shoved into a cave just for laughs.

He somehow gets the gag out of his mouth, and it falls wetly under his chin. Gross. With his teeth free, though, he immediately begins to gnaw on the tough rope with his canines.

He’s so focused that he almost doesn’t notice a slight movement from the corner of his eye. But he does, and he freezes, head darting up at where he’d seen it— a shadow skirting across the wall in a place made of nothing _but_ shadow.

Hunk drops his hands, shaking as they were. He didn’t want to accidentally bite himself. Instead, he gets his feet under him and stands, so he could atleast get out of the creepy, hollowed mountain before something feral attacked him.

He gets two steps towards the door when the rumbling starts again. It’s low— it’s _loud_ — and it absolutely rattles him to the core. He feels his heart stop for a moment, especially when there’s a heavy sound behind his back that nearly sends him sprawling to the ground for the umpteenth time that day.

He really doesn’t want to turn around. He really _really_ doesn’t, but he does anyway.

And there, staring him straight in the eye, is a _dragon_.

It’s ten times his size, with bone-chilling eyes that stare directly into his soul. They look grey— with a hint of gold that overlays the iris, adding a reflective sheen. Hunk can see himself in them, frozen in time.

The dragon is made of nothing but black. Black scales that, as it twists its spindly body down the hollow mountain to regard Hunk, look like the night time wind. Yet, even in the dark, they look shiny and bright enough to reflect every color Hunk could name, and even ones he’s never seen before.

Hunk can see maybe four legs, stubby compared to the rest of it as they slide along the wall, helping the dragon to find its balance in the tiny space. It looked big enough to fill a tower spire that can reach the stars, but still need room for its head to poke out. Hunk is flabbergasted as to how it’s fitting in the mountain in the first place.

Despite every self-preserving bone in his body screaming at him not to, Hunk reaches a marvelingly curious hand out to touch the wet snout that sat in front of him, twitching much like a dog’s would. Long, delicate whiskers decorate its maw that kind of look like an old man’s mustache, and Hunk couldn’t help his startled giggle, as terrified as he was.

The dragon reared back, stomping a foot on the ground. Hunk may have let out a scream, but it’s lost as the dragon transforms into a flare of light, compressing smaller and smaller until it’s about Hunk’s size until there are two humans standing in the middle of a mountain that feels a lot bigger without a dragon inside.

Hunk falls, though he hardly feels it this time. A man stands where the dragon once did, light dripping off of him like candle wax until it fades into his skin with a shimmering glow.

The dragon— the man?— walks towards him, head tilting curiously. He steps slow and careful, as if Hunk is a wild animal that’ll skirt off and scamper away at a moment’s notice. He just might, actually.

The dragon’s hair is long enough for the ends to be hidden behind his back and duo-colored white and black, though the white only stains the middle. He has those same grey-gold eyes.

He doesn’t have a mustache.

Hunk thinks he may be losing his mind.

The man-dragon drops to his knees in front of Hunk, and Hunk flinches backwards as a hand is offered to him. “Who are you?” He’s asked, with a voice that sounds _nothing_ like how a dragon’s should. It’s gentle and _kind_.

Hunk stutters out words as his brain tries to come back to life, staring blankly at the hand in front of his face. When he doesn’t take the offered help, the man-dragon lifts him up anyway, patting away the dirt that clung to his coat.

“You’re strange.” He’s told, and a playful smile stretches the dragon’s lips. Sharp teeth stare him in the face, and the bizarre juxtaposition is enough to pull another laugh from Hunk. It reaches a point of hysteria when the dragon reaches for his hands, cutting him out of his ties with a single swipe of one of his sharp claws.

The previous question finally registers in the back of his mind, and Hunk rubs at his sore wrists. “I’m Hunk,” He squeaks out, squeezing his palm tight against the raw wound. “Your, uh… dinner, I guess?”

The man-dragon lifts a brow, and his smile turns into a smirk. “Oh?” He crosses his arms, looking Hunk up and down and— oh gosh, he is _naked_. Hunk hadn’t realized, being as starstruck as he was.

Hunk turns his eyes up, though he knows he’s very obviously red in the face. He hears the other laugh, and there’s a gentle hand lifting his wrists to survey the damage as he keeps rubbing at them.

This close, he can see that the dragon’s skin is still faintly covered in scales, despite his human-esque appearance. They shimmer, catching the light from the doorway, and Hunk feels a bit faint again. There’s no way this isn’t a strange dream, or some sort of alternate reality.

“Shiro.” The man-dragon says, letting Hunk’s wrists fall from his palms. They aren’t magically healed but, for some reason, they don’t feel as sore. Instead, a pleasant heat thrums through them— left over from the hands that held them.

Hunk swallows a few times, fumbling with his tongue for a moment when he gets stared down again. “What?”

He gets another smile, vaguely mischievous, and the dragon takes a few steps back as he’s engulfed by the light again, growing big and mighty and _terrifying_ in half a second. Hunk isn’t sure how he isn’t squished in the transformation, but he’s standing so close he can almost _see_ the scales being molded from air and darkness to take their rightful place.

There are no wings, he realizes belatedly. But the dragon still flies as he circles around his home, curling his long body along the walls so that he can head back down to Hunk’s relative eye-level. This big, the amusement is crystal clear in his stormy grey eyes, and Hunk straightens his back when the creature rumbles at him.

“My name is Shiro.” He introduces again. He speaks without moving his mouth, but the words are presented clear and cool in the mountain air. Shiro nudges Hunk a bit with his nose, playful despite the fact that Hunk may _actually_ die of fright when he sees the sharp glint of teeth. “Welcome to my home, little snack.”

**Author's Note:**

> dragon!Shiro is literally just teasing the hell out of hunk. that little sneaky moustache boy
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS TEDDY!!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR SURPRISE :D
> 
> @everyone please make sure to wish my buddy, teddy a happy n merry christmas over on his blog [@sleepyhunk](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!!!


End file.
